Three Nice Things
by J. APPLEGATE
Summary: Alistair and Morrigan's bickering has been driving Ryann Tabris mad, and it's been only a week since Ostagar was lost. To put it at rest for a moment, he demands they say three nice things to each other, as he often had to do as a child. Surprisingly, it goes well.


"What do you want to hear? That I prefer to follow? I do."

"You sound so very defensive."

"Couldn't you crawl into a bush somewhere and die? That would be great, thanks."

Ryann sighed, stopping dead in his tracks in the center of Lothering. Alistair ran into him and nearly knocked him into the dirt, failing to see that the elf had quit walking. He was quick to apologize while Morrigan made no effort to hide her smile at Alistair's foolishness.

"That's it," Ryann said, swiping his hand through the air. His voice was loud, louder than expected from an elf. Villagers and refuges looked to him and his group—an ex-Templar, an apostate, a mabari, and the Chantry lay sister they'd picked up some hours ago. Some seemed surprised to see him talking down to a pair of humans, but no one said anything. The commonly held belief that elves were second-class citizens vanished from their minds at the sight of his bloodstained armor and weapons.

"I'm sick and tired of hearing you two bicker like children," he continued, not caring who may overhear. The showing in the tavern made it clear he feared no one who wanted to turn in the bounty for Grey Wardens. "We've been together for five days, and I swear I'm this close to letting the Blight ravage Ferelden." He eyed Alistair as he added, "And your focus is clearly being affected by all the belittling."

Alistair's face burned red with shame, his armored hand moving to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. "Sorry."

Ryann looked to Morrigan, raising a brow at the silent woman. She stared back, arms folded across her chest. A few silent moments passed before he asked, "Well?"

"I would offer an apology if I believed one was warranted," she said. "'Tis hardly my fault Alistair nearly trampled over you."

"It'd be easier to watch where I'm going if I wasn't asked a question every ten paces."

"Of course; 'tis a rare feat doing two things at once. Walking _and _talking?" Morrigan tskd. "You poor dear."

Alistair opened his mouth, but Ryann cut in. "What did I just say?"

The mabari at his side whimpered, backing away slightly from the recently imprinted master. Leliana, still adorned her Chantry robes, watched the elf's face turn as red as Alistair's in irritation. She'd noted in _Dane's Refuge_ he was quick to anger, but thankfully as quick to cool off. Perhaps he wasn't the sort to forgive and forget, but few good leaders could claim such a skill. She was already starting to see why the Maker had sent her to him.

"We're not going any further until each of you says... two nice things to each other," Ryann said. A memory of his mother doing the same when he and Shianni got into fights as children had popped into his head. He hoped it'd be enough to embarrass them into being quiet for a while, at least until the sun set. Tomorrow, he wasn't so sure.

"I don't think she understands the word 'nice,'" Alistair said. "Or how clothing works."

"You complain about my attire? I must admit my surprise. You've become so enraptured by my breasts, the only time you aren't looking at them is when you have to blink."

"That's not where I look!" Alistair said a little too quickly, his voice a little too high.

"Now you have to say three nice things," Ryann uttered. "Do you want to shoot for four?"

Neither said anything, simply facing each other and sighing in unison. Alistair didn't have the first clue what he could compliment Morrigan on, and she was feeling the same thing towards him. They stared at each other without making a sound, amber eyes locked with golden ones.

Ryann waited, and when they continued to just examine each other in disdain, he said, "Alistair, you go first."

Alistair pouted, making the Witch of the Wilds smirk. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "You're... ah... good with magic. Not just killing people with it, I mean."

She chuckled to herself, enjoying the way he bumbled through the sentence. Unfortunately, it was her turn to be nice to him. Brushing a stray hair from her vision, Morrigan more eloquently said, "You're more than proficient with a sword and shield. I daresay you've stopped a fair deal of attacks meant for me."

_Strange, _she thought. _That came out rather quick. _

Alistair thought similarly. Especially when she didn't follow it up with some remark on how a better swordsman would've stopped every attack directed at her or an equally offensive comment. _She just doesn't want to say four things, that's all. _

"Good," Ryann said, shaking Alistair from his thoughts. The elf was no longer angry, but he was quite enjoying the way Leliana smiled at the scene. His weakness for redheads extended to humans as well, apparently. "That's one. Morrigan, you go first now."

Rolling her eyes, Morrigan tried coming up with a new compliment. She said the first thing that came to mind, yet once again was true. "You are not unappealing to look at. When you aren't drooling," she added hastily, risking the possibility of increasing the number to four.

_I don't drool, do I? Sometimes when I sleep, I suppose, but not when looking at her. _He gulped. _I hope. _"You're very beau—uh, you're attractive," Alistair corrected.

Leliana giggled to herself. It was absolutely adorable seeing Alistair stammer his way through this. He couldn't hide how he felt for Morrigan at all, even behind all the nasty things they'd said to each other in the short time she'd been around them. The mage was a bit more subtle in her attraction, though she couldn't disguise it from a former master of The Game. If they weren't getting in their own ways so much, they could make a cute couple.

"All right," said Ryann. "Last one. This time, let's try not to say almost the exact same thing as the other person."

Assuming he was to go first this last time around, Alistair said, "For the most part, I relish having others give me orders and lead. But I admit I am a little, tiny bit jealous of how independent you are. It seems... freeing, to have so much control of your own actions."

_If only he knew how little freedom I truly have, _Morrigan thought. _If only he knew why Mother had me join him. _"'Tis... not uncommon for you to say things that I find amusing. I've had few opportunities to hear such things in the Korcari Wilds. 'Tis... refreshing."

They looked at each other for a few seconds longer, saying nothing at all. Finally, Morrigan broke the stare and glared at Ryann Tabris. "Happy now? Would you like to see us hold hands and skip throughout the rest of this miserable village?"

Ryann grinned, both at her comment and Alistair's face burning up again. "I'm more than content. As far as holding hands, go ahead if that's what feels right."

Morrigan scoffed. "I'd sooner kiss your mongrel. Come, let us free the Qunari and leave." Without waiting for response, she headed north for the outskirts of Lothering.

"Those rags she wears, they're not just splendid for looking at her breasts, no?" Leliana asked, seeing where Alistair's line of sight led to.

Immediately he broke contact with her swaying hips. "I—no, what? What are we talking about?" He shifted his shield. "Can we just go find a darkspawn sword for me to fall upon?"

"Of course," she said, waving her hand before them. "After you."

Alistair was quick to leave her and Ryann, muttering something inaudible under his breath. The elf glanced at Leliana after Alistair was a good distance away. "You did that on purpose. I approve entirely, but that was pure evil."

"And your game was not?" Leliana asked.

He shrugged. "You haven't had to deal with them for nearly a week. Trust me, they're funny at first, but it gets old fast."

"Then let us hope this Blight is a short one for more than one reason."

Ryann simply gazed at her for a moment. Just as the Templar and apostate, he wasn't very good at masking his thoughts. She was flattered, and she thought him one of the more handsome elves she'd ever met—and the tallest, meeting her height almost exactly.

"Maybe not too short," he said, before following after the departing humans.

His mabari lingered around Leliana, nudging his head against her leg as if to urge her to chase after him. Heeding the dog's advice, Leliana moved quickly to be at the Warden's side.

* * *

_A/N: Not sure why this came to me, and I don't think I wrote Morrigan very well, but this was mostly practice at writing from multiple POVs at once. Hopefully I did well in that regard. Thanks for reading._


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